The Real Thing Read online

  "Yes, sir," Percy mumbled, looking at the floor. Under normal circumstances, Liam would have felt bad for making Percy feel like shit but today was not his day for sympathy.

  “Good. No disruptions while I meet with-”

  "Mr. Davis. Mr. Conrad Davis," Percy supplied his need to be helpful one step above pitiful.

  “Right. No calls, nothing. Unless Felicity calls. If she calls, if anyone calls and mentions her name, put the call through to me directly.”

  "And Felicity is...?" Percy asked. Liam liked Percy, but right now it was hard not to see him as a sneaky little shit. Even with all of this morning's chaos, he couldn't stop fishing for gossip.

  "My girlfriend," Liam answered. He did his best to ignore the lick of maliciousness that shot through him when he saw the shock register on Percy's face. It had been a long time since he had called anyone his girlfriend; before the Percy era, that was for sure. Percy hadn't ever come right out and asked about it, but Liam wouldn't be surprised if his personal life was one of the hot topics for conversation amongst his employees. If he were right on that, he'd just given them something to talk about for the next six months.

  “Your girlfriend?” Percy asked, driving the point home, “Did you say your girlfriend?”

  “That’s right. I did. Felicity. She always gets through.”

  Liam left Percy standing there in the middle of the hallway, totally dumbfounded, and stepped into his office. When Percy said the FBI agent was waiting for him, he wasn't exaggerating. The guy was sitting at Liam's desk with his feet propped up on the desk and his arms crossed behind his head like he lived there or something. Liam's chest tightened with anger and he swallowed hard, pushing it back down again. Getting into it with an FBI agent wasn't going to make his day go any smoother.

  "Hello. Percy said I had somebody waiting for me," he said slowly, measuring his words. The man turned to look at him but didn't bother taking his feet off of Liam's desk. That was the thing that tipped the scales on whether or not Liam was willing to give him a chance. You didn't put your feet up on another man's desk but you sure as hell didn't leave them there once you’ve got caught. What you did was apologize, and it didn't look like there were any apologies forthcoming from his new friend Conrad.

  "Mr. North! I was starting to wonder if you were coming in today," he said, his voice chipper in a way that made Liam want to punch his teeth out. Instead, he opted for settling himself behind his desk so he could look the guy in the face. The guy didn't look embarrassed of his forwardness the way he should have been, but at least he had the decency to pick up his damned feet. So that was something.

  "For future reference, you'll have an easier time reaching me if you call first. My office hours change from day to day. It's best to make an appointment if you don't want to deal with the wait."

  "Right, sure. I get that. A busy man, right? An important man?" The agent's tone was light, conversational, but Liam didn't like the implication there. He didn't like anything about the conversation, and it hadn't really gotten started. All of a sudden, Liam was trying to come up with a good reason not to tell the guy to get out of his office.

  “You said it, not me. Look, is there something I can do for you...?”

  "Detective Davis," Conrad supplied with a goofy smile like he was doing Liam some great favor by giving his name.

  “Good. Detective Davis. If there’s something I can do for you please let me know. I’ll be happy to help. Otherwise, I hate to say it, but I really am busy today.”

  "Right, no, I get it. The old heave-ho. I just need to talk to you about the other night."

  "Can you be more specific?" Liam asked. At this point, he didn’t bother to keep the annoyance out of his voice. He had an idea that getting people annoyed was a special talent of Mr. Davis'.

  “You and your lovely girl were at one of those fancy parties the other night, right?”

  “Are you talking about the gala?” he asked, then felt like an idiot when he heard the word “gala” out loud. This wasn’t the kind of man you talked about galas with. He made the word seem too prissy.

  “Sure, that’s it. The gala. Let’s talk about the gala.”

  “Look, I don’t see-”

  "Let's talk about the death wish you must have for you and your girl, getting yourself into line of sight of a group like that."

  "I'm sorry, what did you say?" Liam asked, genuinely taken aback. It pissed him off too, to be so obviously surprised. It was exactly what the good detective was going for, and they both knew it.

  "The Cobras," Detective Davis answered, lightning fast.

  “Are you fucking with me? The Cobras?” Liam asked, looking for some sign of a joke. Perversely, all of the laughter seemed to have gone out of the agent’s face. He leaned forward, his hands clasped tightly and his face very serious.

  “Do I look like I’m fucking with you? Does this look like the face of a man who’s fucking around?”

  “No. I guess it doesn’t, so you better tell me what you’re talking about.”

  "Look, I'm not going to get into the details because, frankly, it's above your pay grade, but those guys aren't the ones you want to dick around with. Using your girl as bait? You could have gotten her killed, man. Do you realize that? You could have gotten her killed."

  At last, it hit home for Liam; really hit home. There was an FBI agent in his office, and it was because of the jewelry thieves he'd been trying to get to for more than a year now. And how the hell was he supposed to feel about that? On one hand, there was fucking vindication, knowing he'd been right. On the other hand, though, hearing that he'd put Felicity in that kind of danger from legitimate law enforcement was like a swift punch to the guts. Everything Davis said after that came to him from far away. He heard him giving another warning, telling him that keeping up with what he was doing was asking for trouble. Then the good detective left his card and walked out the door. For a long time, Liam just sat there, stone still. When he was able to move again, the first thing he did was pick up his phone. Matt, God bless him, picked up on the first ring and there was none of the joviality that sometimes got in the way of it seeming like he gave a shit.

  "Yeah, boss?" he answered in that reassuringly clipped, professional tone.

  “Matt. Tell me everything’s okay there, man. Tell me you’ve got her safe.” He heard the tremble in his voice and wondered if Matt noticed it. If so, he was decent enough to keep his mouth shut. That was good because Liam had a feeling, he was going to be making several such phone calls in the foreseeable future.

  “Christ,” he hissed to himself after abruptly ending the call, “what the hell did I get myself into?”

  Chapter Eight

  Felicity Reynolds

  A change in routine could be good. It could be the best thing for a person, really, depending on the transformation taking place. If it was the right kind of change, it could be just the thing to kickstart a person stalled out, stuck in the hazard lane of his or her own life. This was especially true for people who, for one reason or another, had stopped believing that their life could go anywhere positive. For Felicity, the change from her tiny, efficient apartment to Liam's mansion was so overwhelming it didn't seem real. It was so unreal and unsettling for the first two or three days. Every morning she woke up on the verge of panic, not knowing where she was or why she was there. She imagined it was similar to what flight attendants felt waking up in a new city, a new country even, every other week. It wasn't just the mornings, either. For three nights in a row, she woke up terrified and gasping for the few seconds it took her to orient her new place. One night she was so loud she was sure she had woken up everyone in the house. For several long seconds she sat propped up on her elbows waiting for someone to come running, if not Liam, then one of the many security people he had on property twenty-four hours a day. She was almost concerned when time ticked by and there was no knock on her door, but then she remembered that the house was so big it was unlikely anyone had heard such a
short, curtailed sound. She tried not to think too hard about what that might mean for her safety if someone really was to come after her. The fact that she didn't think anything would really happen helped in that respect considerably.

  The boredom didn't start settling in until she had been at the North mansion for maybe a week. That was how long it took for the novelty to wear off, for her to realize that in her new role as the fake girlfriend, she left completely useless. She didn't get in the way or cause any trouble. In fact, she tried to leave as little a footprint as possible. But the problem was that the house just seemed to swallow her up. Nothing to do except wander through ridiculously fancy rooms with security guys tracking her every move. They were as discreet as possible about it, but it didn't take a genius to learn their habits, especially when she had little else to pay attention to. By the time two weeks had gone by without a single disturbance, she felt like she was going out of her mind. Unfortunately, it was a sentiment Lena, who had little to no sympathy for.

  “I’m sorry, but are you shitting me right now?” she shrieked into the phone, loud enough for it to actually hurt, and Felicity had to put the phone away from her ear.

  “Gross,” Felicity laughed once she felt it was safe to return to the conversation, “I’ve always hated that saying. The imagery is sort of disgusting, don’t you think?”

  “No way, sister, don’t try and change the subject. Just because you’re fancy now doesn’t mean you can play your wily tricks on me.”

  "Who said anything about fancy?" Felicity sighed, flopping back onto the bed and staring up at the ceiling. A quick glance around the room didn't do much to support her point, and she was glad Lena couldn't see her new room while they were talking. It was, by far, the most opulent place she had ever seen. The effect started to wear off as she spent more time there, but when she stopped to really look around, she was still completely astonished that people lived this way. Her bed at home was a twin, and the mattress sagged so badly in the middle that sometimes she opted for sleeping on the floor instead. Her bed at Liam's place was a four-poster king and the sheets were made out of silk. Not that weird synthetic stuff, but actual, genuine silk. The floors were perfectly polished hardwoods while the huge bathroom was all marble. If she got up to look out the windows, plural because she was in a corner room and it came with an impressive view, there was a front lawn that looked like its own national park. How somebody could have something like that anywhere near a city was beyond her. But then Liam had it.

  “Honey,” Lena interrupted her thoughts, almost like she knew what she’d been thinking. “I don’t need you to say anything. You’re living with a genuine billionaire right now. Unless he’s one of those weirdo recluses-”

  “He’s not. He’s not a weirdo. At least not that I’ve seen.”

  “Okay, then you’re living in the lap of luxury right now. You should be living it up!”

  “I don’t know,” Felicity said doubtfully, “I guess so.”

  “No ‘I guess.’ That’s just how it is. I honestly don’t see what you could have to complain about.”

  "Because I feel useless, okay?! I feel like I'm not even a person anymore. I just lay around doing nothing, and that's all."

  “And?”

  “And it’s too weird. I’ve been working a minimum of two jobs since I was like, fifteen, and now I’m doing nothing. Do you get that? Nothing. At all.”

  "Yes," Lena said slowly like she was talking to a two-year-old who didn't understand much in the way of language. "That's right. You're doing nothing and getting paid for it. Hello, dream job!"

  " I don't know if it makes sense, but I don't feel comfortable." She sounded pitiful to herself, and she was sure Lena would make fun of her in that friendly, albeit not always pleasant way she had. When Lean was silent, then continued to be silent for longer than was characteristic, Felicity sat up straight. Her whole body went tense, waiting for what Lena had to say next. Absurdly, she was a little afraid to hear it. She did sound terribly ungrateful, after all. Maybe Lena had finally had enough of her bitching.

  “Actually, it does make sense,” Lena finally sighed, “and I kind of love you for it.”

  "I don't get it," Felicity answered, her relief a physical thing. Whether her complaints were valid, or she was just feeling sorry for herself, this would be the worst time for her and Lena to get into one of their very rare fights. Still, having Lena not only relent but agree with her completely was totally unexpected. She definitely didn't expect getting actual praise for it.

  “You’re just kind of a badass, that’s all. A lot of people in your position would be over the moon excited not to have anything to do. It says something about your character that you don’t love it.”

  “Thanks, Lena, that’s very sweet,” Felicity said, trying not to sound as choked up as she felt.

  “Don’t mention it. And don’t cry. Seriously Felicity, if you cry, I’m never going to let you live it down,” Lena said, feeling almost panicky.

  "I'm not going to cry," Felicity laughed, "just tell me what I'm supposed to do. I can't exactly go complain to him about being so well taken care of, can I?"

  “No,” Lena answered promptly, “you would look like a total brat. But you’re in a mansion, for Christ’s sake. Is there anything there that sparks your imagination?”

  Felicity was all set to say no but stopped before the word got out. How could she be so stupid? It was true that she was living in somebody else's house, and there was always a certain level of discomfort there, but the home was so big and the grounds so full of possibilities. The moment Lena asked her that one simple question, her head was overcome by a picture of the immaculate kitchen beneath her so clear she might as well have been sitting at the boat-sized island.

  “Um, Felicity? Earth to Felicity? If you hung up on me-”

  “No, but I’m pretty sure you’re a genius!”

  “I don’t disagree, but why exactly?”

  "I'll tell you later. If I'm going to get everything I need, I've got to go right now. Love you, friend!" She hung up before giving Lena the chance to say anything else. She could envision her friend's expression of annoyance when she shut her eyes, and she smiled at herself as she hurried out of her room and down the North mansion's grand main staircase.

  “THIS IS UNACCEPTABLE! I want to know what’s going on in there and I want to know right now.”

  “But, sir-”

  “No, Matt. Either now or we can have a discussion about your future employment.”

  From her place in the kitchen, Felicity winced. Matt and the other men on his team had been dolls about helping her with her plan for the evening. Samson had looked perplexed by the length of her grocery list, but he willingly went and got every item on the list. It had been she who had asked the guys to keep Liam out of the kitchen until she was done. Matt had told her that Liam didn't like change in his routine that was not sanctioned by him, but she had pleaded with him, and after some time he had relented. Now she could see why he had been so on the fence about the idea. Liam sounded one step above irate that he was being kept from his kitchen. Had to be if he was threatening to fire the man Felicity was certain was his favorite employee. She just thought he was being a pompous jackass, proof that having too much for too long was poison for a guy's character. There was a much smaller part of her, however, that thought his reaction might be because of her; because he cared about her. She would never express the idea out loud, not in a million years, but she thought it might be true, nevertheless.

  “Okay,” she whispered to herself, brushing her hands off on her apron and taking a deep breath, “time to do some damage control.”

  She whipped the apron off, took a quick look around the kitchen to see how much of a mess she had made and hurried to the kitchen door. She arrived, gripping the handle, just as Liam came bashing through said door and almost knocked her flat on her back. Matt followed close behind him, his face pinched and maybe a little-pissed off.

  “Oh!
” she gasped as she went sprawling, just narrowly missing knocking her head into a table leg.

  “What the hell is this?” Liam bellowed, turning quickly and trying to look everywhere at once. “What’s going on in here?” The last part was directed at Matt, whose face darkened even further. Felicity could see where this was headed, and it was nowhere good. She scrambled to her feet, almost fell back down again, and then managed to get herself upright.

  “Okay boys, let’s all take a breath. I think this has gotten a little out of hand, don’t you?” she asked in a carefully pleasant voice. She was trying to be the voice of reason in a room chalk full of testosterone, which was no small feat. She thought she was doing a pretty decent job, too.

  "I don't know if ‘out of hand’ is the expression I would use to describe this, Felicity," Liam said, his voice low and dangerous. She felt the urge to tell him to stop being such a jackass but bit her tongue to keep it back.

  "Okay, I get it. Really, I do. Maybe Matt could just go, okay? He can go back to work, and I'll explain."

  "I think that's probably best boss, don't you?" Matt agreed through gritted teeth. He turned around on his heels and walked out of the door without waiting for an answer, and Liam started after him. Felicity, her head already filled with visions of the two men in the hospital after trying to beat each other to a bloody pulp, lunged forward and grabbed Liam's arms, holding onto him until Matt was gone. Once that was done, she tugged on him some more until he turned grudgingly from the door to face her.

  "Liam, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, okay?" she said placatingly. Trying to soothe a man's anger was a familiar feeling for Felicity. It was a feeling she had worked hard to push down so far below her surface that she wouldn't ever have to examine it again. Now it threatened to rear its head again, and she shook her head, fast and hard, to clear her mind. Liam's feelings were justified, even if they were uncomfortable. They had nothing to do with who she had been before. This time she really did have an obligation to make amends. She was the reason Liam was so pissed off, although he didn’t appear to realize it.